“And the baths—how will you heat them?”
“By means of a boiler arranged near the heating apparatus, with circulating pipes reaching to the bath-rooms on the first floor, which are over the heating chamber, or nearly so.”
“Have you arranged for baths for the servants also?”
“Yes, under the bakehouse and wash-house, below the ground floor.”
“You have provided for everything, I see. This conversation about the chimneys has been one of which you will do well to give a summary in your notes, Paul!”
“I will do so, mother.”
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE CANTINE.
In spite of the recent disasters, life seemed to return as by enchantment, both in the towns and the rural districts. In all directions every one was setting himself to work again to make up for lost time. Although the misfortunes which had nearly cut off all the sources of wealth in France were indelibly imprinted on their memories, a patriotic instinct made its inhabitants redouble their efforts to repair the mighty ruin, without indulging in vain recriminations. Those who travelled through France during the months of February and March, 1870, might have compared the country to an ant’s nest disturbed by the foot of some incautious stroller. These wonderful insects do not in such a case waste their time in lamentations, and making processions to supplicate the Providence of the ants: they set to work immediately; and if you pass by next day, the traces of the convulsion that had almost destroyed the colony have disappeared.
But at the end of March the journals brought to the château the disastrous news from Paris. M. de Gandelau had been thinking of sending back his son to the Lyceum. Although satisfied that Paul would not be losing his time, he thought it a pity that his classical studies should be any longer interrupted. But the last news changed his intention. He decided that his son should continue to work with his cousin, who had resolved to stay at the château and wait the course of events.
M. de Gandelau, loved and respected by the whole neighbourhood, had no anxiety so far as he himself was concerned. Some sinister faces had presented themselves in the neighbouring villages, but there was no opening for such emissaries there, so they soon disappeared. Master Branchu and Jean Godard had come to the château to tell M. de Gandelau that the workmen entreated him not to suspend the works, and that if money was wanting, they would consent to wait for better days. For the present they would ask only for soup and bread. In fact, M. de Gandelau having made great sacrifices during the war, had not just now at his disposal means sufficient for giving regular wages such as the energetic carrying out of the works would demand. The most he could do was to supply provisions. It was, therefore, decided that they should set up a provision store near the works; that M. de Gandelau should furnish meal, fuel, fresh meat twice a week, vegetables and bacon; and that each workman should receive as many rations as his family and he required for their subsistence. Each ration was estimated at prime cost; and the balance was to be paid in money at a future day, according to a well-recognized and carefully-adjusted scale of wages. Half a dozen workmen who did not belong to the district would not accept this arrangement, and quitted the works. The others, having full confidence in M. de Gandelau’s good faith, agreed to these terms, with so much the more readiness as they had thus the pleasing prospect of the result of this fixed economy in the shape of a saving. Paul was commissioned with this new branch of administration, and combined the functions of a purveyor with those of an inspector. His cousin initiated him in the system of accounts he must keep, so that all interests might be protected.